


Bullshit

by stylesoftheshire



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 02:41:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/681795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylesoftheshire/pseuds/stylesoftheshire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On September 16th 2012, Louis tweeted that Larry was bullshit. Harry reacts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bullshit

**Author's Note:**

> the ending's a bit shit but I wrote this in the early aftermath of the tweet and hadn't really thought it all through properly haha

‘It’s nice to know how much our friendship means to you.’

Louis’ head snapped up, flinching as Harry slammed the door shut behind him.

‘What are you talking about?’ he asked, trying to discreetly nudge his phone under a cushion.

‘Don’t even bother trying to hide it, Louis,’ Harry snapped, tossing the party bag from Lux’s birthday onto the sofa.

Louis gulped, watching Harry stalk toward him with stormy eyes. He looked pissed off to say the least.  
 _‘Larry is the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard,’_ Harry mimicked in a high pitched voice.

‘But it is!’ Louis insisted, instantly rattled. ‘You’ve seen the things they come up with! All these theories about El being a fucking beard and every little thing I say to you having some stupid underlying meaning. Some people even think she has a twin! I can’t even look at you without them thinking I’m sending you a secret message and every time I’m out with El it’s apparently just a ploy by Modest! It’s fucking ridic—‘

‘I know!’ Harry shouted, his nostrils flared. ‘I am fully aware of the things these fans say. I am fully aware of the make believe world they have created for us, okay? You think I don’t see those things too?’ Louis stuttered for a reply, taken aback by the venom in his usually mellow voice, but Harry wasn’t out of steam yet. ‘Of course I fucking do!’ he exclaimed, throwing his arms out to the sides. ‘I am just as much a part of Larry fucking Stylinson as you, but you don’t see me lashing out at those girls like you do. I fucking wish they were right about management controlling what you say, because it would mean my best friend hasn’t turned into a total fucking cunt!’

Louis was lost for words. Harry had never lost his head like that before, at least not with him. He had never seen him so mad – his chest was heaving and his arms had fallen back to his sides, his fists so tightly furled that Louis wondered if he would actually hit him. He felt incredibly small and incredibly confused.

‘I had to,’ he said, voice barely above a whisper but he saw Harry’s jaw clench.

‘You had to?’ Harry repeated incredulously. ‘You _had_ to? I don’t think you have a clue what you have started here. Do you ever think before you act? It’s like you do things for the reaction without thinking about the consequences. Do you even have any idea what some of our fans are saying to those girls?’

Louis swallowed guiltily, having been scrolling through his mentions just before Harry had come home. He knew full well what people were saying about him and about the people he replied to. It made him feel sick, but he couldn’t take it back now else they would just think he was sticking it to the puppeteer he was supposedly being controlled by.  
He found himself shrugging pathetically and he knew it was a poor move, but he couldn’t think of anything else to do. 

‘You know what? I’m fucking glad you said it.’

Louis’ eyebrows shot up in surprise and something heavy dropped in his stomach.

‘Larry is bullshit,’ Harry continued, not looking him in the eye. ‘It’s all fucking bullshit. Why would I want to associate myself with someone like you?’

He let the question hang in the air for a minute so tense it could shatter, before turning to stalk toward his bedroom.

Louis’ heart was racing nineteen to the dozen as he watched Harry’s back retreat. There was really only one interpretation and Louis couldn’t lose his best friend, not for anything in the world. He just couldn’t understand why it had gotten him this worked up. He knew that his choice of words had been harsh, but to evoke such a reaction was confounding, especially from Harry.

He heaved himself off of the sofa, finding his legs a little wobbly as he darted down the corridor.

‘Harry, wait!’ 

Harry spun on his heel in his bedroom doorway, his face thunderous.

‘Don’t even bother talking to me, I know how much it must repulse you,’ he hissed.

Louis stared at him wide-eyed until the door slammed in his face, making him jump back and hit the opposite wall. He slid down until he was sat on the floor, staring at the door handle which he usually wouldn’t have thought twice about pulling down. Now he wasn’t even sure if he could make it over the threshold without being knocked out cold by the one person who he really thought he’d always have on his side. They were Larry Stylinson after all.

It was with a gut-wrenching ache that he realised that wasn’t the case anymore. 

Not knowing what else to do, he dragged himself back to the living room and fished his phone out from between the cushions. He had a feeling that this was the worst thing he could do, but he was already pressing her number on speed dial. It only took one ring and he knew that she must have seen Twitter.

‘Lou?’

Her voice was soft and concerned, only this time he didn’t feel as comforted as he usually did.

‘Hey, El,’ he murmured. ‘Can I come over?’

‘Of course you can! Shall I pick you up?’

Louis thought for a minute, casting a quick look down the hall to Harry’s closed door. He could hear Ed’s music pounding faintly through the walls and hoped that maybe he could soothe Harry where Louis seemed unable to. He thought of Eleanor and knew that he had to be with her, but he needed some time alone first.

‘No, it’s okay, babe. I’ll drive over. Need to think. Be there in about twenty minutes?’

‘Okay, I’ll see you in a bit,’ she replied, and he could hear the smile in her voice. ‘Love you.’

He sighed, his eyes still on Harry’s door, imagining him on his laptop scrolling through Twitter and biting out hate at all the things Louis had said.

‘Love you too.’

-

‘He’ll forgive you, babe,’ she said, rocking him from side to side as he sniffled pathetically.

 

‘But that’s just it, El,’ Louis whined. ‘I don’t know what he’d be forgiving me for. I mean, I know what I said wasn’t all that nice, but he was so angry.’ He shuddered. ‘It was scary.’

Eleanor hummed into his hair, rubbing a hand over his back thoughtfully.

‘Lou…’ she started, before cutting herself off unsurely.

He looked up at her curiously. ‘What?’

She pulled her mouth to the side, her eyebrows furrowed.

‘I really think you need to talk to him. You shouldn’t have left things the way you did.’

Louis’ face sagged, the hole in his chest gaping wider.

‘I don’t think I can. He doesn’t want anything to do with me,’ he said sadly.

‘Louis, look at me,’ she ordered gently, tilting his chin up to face her. 

He felt guilty looking her in the eye.

‘There is no way that Harry Styles wouldn’t want to see you again,’ she said firmly. ‘You mean the world to that boy.’

Louis’ insides burned with shame. 

‘He means the world to me too,’ he whispered, feeling every word weigh on his conscience. 

‘Of course he does,’ Eleanor encouraged. ‘He’s your best friend.’

Something thick lodged in Louis’ throat and he nodded. 

‘Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, El.’

Eleanor beamed at him, so pleased with herself that it made him feel uncomfortable and he stood up quickly, grabbing his jacket.

‘Let me know how it goes, yeah?’ she asked, standing to peck him lightly on the lips.

‘Mhmm, of course,’ he mumbled, already distracted by what might be waiting for him.

‘Good luck, babe,’ she said, waving him off back to his car.

‘I’ll need it.’

-

The drive back to the flat was over far too quickly, much like the drive to Eleanor’s, leaving him little time to actually think of what he would say. By the time he had the key in the lock, he was hoping something would come to him on the spot, but it was that kind of impulsive acting that got him in this mess.  
If he was to be entirely honest with himself, he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t acted more calmly. He couldn’t even remember why he was so annoyed that he had to say anything in the first place, but it had only snowballed from there. 

He turned the key slowly and let himself in, glad to see that Harry’s coat was still on the hook. He stepped cautiously into the room, his eyes falling on the abandoned party bag and he felt a surprising pang of bitterness that he didn’t have one as well. It seemed childish given the circumstances, but the least Harry could have done after ditching him for Lux’s party was to bring him back some cake. 

Brushing aside the indecent annoyance, he picked up the familiar sound of ‘Kiss Me’ pulsing from Harry’s room and swallowed down his pride.

His feet carried him swiftly until he was faced with the door that had been slammed in his face not an hour ago. He couldn’t hear any sound over the music, no pounding of fists  
into walls or smashing of frames that held pictures of their ski trip together. He took it as a good sign.

His hand felt like an anchor as he lifted it, the knock echoing loudly in his ears but bringing forth no reaction from inside. He counted to fifty, matching his breaths to each number so they were steady, before knocking again a little heavier. Still nothing. 

He squeezed his eyes shut so tightly that his eyelids pounded and he thought of the last time he had walked into Harry’s room. It had been earlier that day. He had just bought Insidious on DVD and snatched up some snacks from the kitchen, intent on bombarding Harry with pleas to watch it in his bed like they used to do before their schedules had become too hectic. He remembered seeing Harry stood in front of his mirror, pulling on a plain white t-shirt and shaking out his hair like a shaggy dog. It was a familiar sight and reminded Louis of home. It would have been a lie to say he wasn’t disappointed when Harry told him he was going to Lux’s birthday instead, especially with the petty resentment that settled on his tongue. 

He let it slide down his throat and opened his eyes to the blank door again. With the memory of Harry’s dopey smile and friendly slap on the back before he had left, he rested his hand on the door handle. He let the weight of his arm pull it down, glad to find no resistance, and hesitantly pushed his way into the room.

He was more than a little confused to find the room empty and he walked the perimeter just to make sure Harry wasn’t hiding in any corners. He backed out into the hallway again and stared into the room like Harry was going to magically appear, but nothing happened. He thought back to their front door, wondering if Harry’s shoes had been there and started to make his way back out into the open space. 

If he hadn’t have been treading so warily, he might have missed it. 

His senses had him side-stepping down the second hall that led to his own room and something like hope bubbled inside him when he saw his door slightly ajar. He heard the sound again and didn’t even bother to think about what it might mean, letting his legs carry him forward until he could peek through the crack. 

In a split second, he completely forgot the reason he was here, along with all of the things Harry had yelled at him with a face so wild it was barely recognisable. All it took was to see Harry curled on his bed sobbing like the world was ending into an old jumper he could have sworn he put in his laundry basket the day before. 

If his heart wasn’t threatening to beat right out of his chest he would have thought it had broken.

-

 

Louis had never seen him like this. Harry’s whole body was shaking and his knuckles were white with how tightly he was gripping the jumper to his chest. It didn’t even occur to Louis to wonder why he was in his room or why it was his jumper, all that mattered was that Harry needed to smile again.

Without thinking, he sat on the edge of his bed and rested a hand on one shuddering shoulder, not even recoiling when Harry’s sobs came to a stuttering halt and his entire body twitched.

‘The fuck are you doing here.’

It wasn’t even a question and any malice Harry had intended to lace into his words fell short, leaving only a muffled statement that bore more melancholy than it should have. Louis didn’t move his hand from his shoulder, instead squeezing it lightly, keeping himself grounded.

‘You’re crying,’ he stated dumbly, shaking his head as soon as the words left his mouth. 

‘No shit.’

Louis would have laughed if Harry hadn’t have pulled the jumper closer to himself, like he was scared it would be taken away from him.

‘Haz, wh—‘

‘Am I that disgusting?’

Louis wasn’t sure what shocked him more: the question itself or the pitiful voice that had spoken it.

‘What makes you ask that?’

Harry lifted his head to look at Louis, his puffy red eyes twisting that wrench in his gut even further. His face was blotchy red, his nose was sore and there were tear tracks staining his skin, but he was by no means disgusting.

‘You’re not disgusting at all,’ he whispered, instinctively brushing a rogue lock of hair away from his face.

Harry shivered and relinquished the grip he held on his jumper.

 

‘I must be though,’ he said forlornly. ‘You were so revolted by just the idea of us being more than friends. Is the thought of being with me really that horrible to you?’

Louis could think of nothing to say, instead picking up the jumper Harry had discarded and feeling the damp material with his hands. It was one of his favourites, one that he would sometimes lend to Harry when he’d complain about his skimpy t-shirt not doing him any good. He knew that Harry could easily go to his own room and change, but Louis would automatically make his way to his own wardrobe or pull the woolly material from off of his own back and hand it over. It was worth being a bit chilly himself to see Harry snuggling down in a jumper that was too baggy for his lithe frame.

His fingers picked at a loose thread on the hem and realised that there was no one else he would lend it to, not even Liam who always took special care of other people’s possessions. He was about to say just as much in an attempt to cheer Harry up, when the dejected voice spoke up again.

‘Do I mean anything to you?’

‘Fuck, Harry, how can you even ask that?’ Louis blurted out, startled. 

Harry shuffled closer to the edge of the bed where Louis sat until he could lie his head down on his thigh. Louis immediately felt more relaxed and his hand came up to tangle in the curls at the nape of Harry’s neck.

‘Do you see the way you act when we’re together, Lou? It’s different and I can feel it is, but I don’t think you can.’ Louis’ breathing hitched as one of Harry’s large hands came up to cup lightly over his leg by his head and he couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t the first time his senses had been jolted like that.‘Why did you say those things like that?’ 

‘I think I was mad,’ Louis said quietly, his hand sliding from Harry’s neck until it hooked around his waist.

He felt Harry stiffen next to him and he wished he hadn’t said anything, just wanting Harry to loosen up and laugh that laugh he loved.

‘Were you mad at me?’ Harry asked in a scared voice. 

‘No,’ Louis said instantly, but then he stopped and he thought. 

He looked around him, at the photos of his family and friends dotted around the room. There were photos of the boys and photos where it was just him and Harry, arms slung around each other like they had known each other their whole lives. In all the photos he had chosen to haphazardly decorate his room with, he always made sure that he and Harry were standing side by side. 

He needed Harry there.

‘Yes,’ he corrected himself. ‘I think I was.’

Harry shot up, looking terrified, his hair a mess and his eyes wide.

‘What did I do?’ he asked hurriedly, his hands clutching almost desperately at Louis’ thigh.

Louis stared down at his leg where Harry’s fingers curled around it.

‘You left me,’ he said simply. ‘I mean, you went to the party, urm, without me.’

‘What?’

Harry looked dumbfounded and Louis felt it, because he didn’t realise that one little thing like that could turn into something like this.

‘I wanted to watch a film with you… but you went out,’ he said, trying to rephrase it so he didn’t sound so juvenile and failing.

‘So because I went to Lux’s birthday, you decided to call out Larry fans and tell them that it’s all bullshit?’

Louis winced as the word came back to hit him in the face and nodded shamefully.

‘I don’t get it,’ Harry said, shaking his head and rubbing a hand over his face.

Louis looked at him properly. He saw how badly Harry wanted to understand why he had done what he did, but Louis didn’t even fully understand so he couldn’t explain. He could see the earnest in his green eyes and the slight downward turn of his lips, missing the dimple in his cheek that usually let Louis know he was doing his job right. 

But Louis wasn’t doing his job right so it wasn’t there. He wasn’t doing his job right and that annoyed him – except he wasn’t just annoyed.

‘I was mad at myself,’ he muttered, catching himself by surprise. 

Harry jolted as well, his hand coming to rest on Louis’ forearm and raising the hair there. Louis’ lips went dry and he poked out his tongue to wet them, watching as Harry’s eyes flickered down to catch the movement. 

‘Why?’

Louis shook his head, not taking his eyes off of Harry. 

‘I kept saying things,’ he said slowly. ‘I kept saying things and they were the truth but I… I didn’t want them to be.’

Harry’s mouth had fallen open, his eyes shining like he daren’t believe anything he was hearing. 

Louis wanted Harry to trust every word he said, especially as realisation was dawning bright after the longest night he had ever lived through. 

‘Somewhere along the way you became the centre of my universe and I didn’t even notice,’ he said softly.

Harry’s lips stretched into a smile that made Louis’ heart melt in the way it always did, only this time he didn’t deny what it really meant. 

‘I didn’t even notice that I fell in love with my best friend,’ he whispered incredulously, seeking Harry’s hands with his own.

‘Not only that,’ Harry breathed. ‘You didn’t notice your best friend falling in love with you.’


End file.
